


To Sail, To Break, To Earn

by Engineer104, Rueitae



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Hostage Situations, POV Alternating, Pirate Lance (Voltron), Pirates, Sailing, Witch Curses, basically a Dads of Marmora AU too, kind of, mermaid Pidge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-05 22:32:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16819738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engineer104/pseuds/Engineer104, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rueitae/pseuds/Rueitae
Summary: Cursed by the witch Haggar, Lance, with the crew of the Blade of Marmora, sails the sea and preys on Zarkon's fleet. They are confined to the waves and forbidden from dropping anchor at port. But the deadline draws nearer, when they'll become the soulless servants of the same emperor they forswore, unless they rejoin Zarkon willingly...or earn the heart of a mermaid.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the product of a late night discord discussion that got involved enough we had to say 'well I guess we have to write it now'. 
> 
> The fic will be published in alternating chapters. Rueitae has Lance POV and Engineer104 has Pidge POV. This first chapter is the prologue from Lance's POV.
> 
> Expect slower updates with this one (although the first three chapters have been on Tumblr for a while).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://rueitae.tumblr.com/post/178657397390/to-sail-to-break-to-earn-prologue)

A high pitched whistle is the only warning Lance has to hit the deck. He does so face first, hands covering the back of his head just as the burst of dark magic hits the rigging above him. Splinters rain down on his back and into his hair.

A few tics pass and the deck erupts into chaos yet again. Dozens of scrambling boots beat down on the wooden planks and Lance rises to view the damage for himself.

The main sail still stands. Barely. The mast is being chopped down like a tree by the repeated attacks. Lance leans over the starboard side, looking back at their pursuers. His heart drops when he sees Haggar has only gained on them in the time since he last looked.

“Quiznak,” he mutters under his breath. He pounds the railing with a fist in anger and frustration.

_Cannons pummel a different ship; this one trimmed in brilliant blues and whites. A much younger Lance is petrified and overwhelmed. He wants to help desperately, but is lost in the sea of legs rushing about on the deck, not paying him any mind other than to tell him to get out of the way._

_Pirates are attacking._

This isn’t fair, he thinks fleetingly, he shouldn’t be on this pirate ship. He should be with his family on dry land and in a warm house, playing games with his siblings. Not out on the ocean fighting for his life.

“Lance!”

He breaks from his thoughts to Keith calling his name. The slightly older boy is already climbing the rigging, hanging on as if he was more comfortable in the air than on the ground. “Help me brace the mast! Hurry!”

Lance goes on automatic. He jumps onto the railing and climbs the shroud, following Keith to halfway up the mast.

He may not have his siblings, but he has Keith, who at this point he knows better than his blood brothers.

“ _Why were you on that ship then?” a younger Keith asks. He’s propped up on his elbows, most of his body underneath the covers of the bed. He faces Lance, an expression of curiosity etched across his face._

_Lance has cocooned all but his head under blankets of his own, body curled up tight and clutching the pillow and blanket as if they were lifelines. The day’s events are still fresh in his mind. Just this morning he’d been looking forward to seeing his older sister on another ship later in the week. Instead he’s on a pirate ship, sailing further and further away from any waters he knows._

_His bed is across the cabin from Keith’s, but the room the boy usually shares with his mother is tiny, enough so the two hear each others whispers._

“ _I wanted to meet a pretty mermaid,” Lance admits, even though merfolk are rare and most people don’t believe they exist anymore. He shares his dream anyway, beckoned by the prospect of Keith opening up to him. Having a friend his age would be a mercy. “And I wanted to learn. My family has a lot of boats. I wanted to know what they talk about at dinner, trading and shipping things.”_

_Keith blinks. “That’s just asking to be found by pirates,” he says bluntly._

Keith wraps his legs securely around the rope he clings to and removes his hands. He unsheathes his knife and holds it in his mouth while he examines the damage.

Lance arrives and gives the situation his own critical eye. “We’ve got to take down the sail,” he tells Keith soberly. “This thing has so many holes. Its slowing us down.”

He can tell from the look on Keith’s face that he’s reached the same conclusion. Keith takes his knife and begins cutting rope. “Tell Kolivan to prep the crossbows. The whole thing will come down eventually, might as well use it.”

“Got it,” Lance acknowledges. He swings himself around and glides down the rope, hitting the deck running.

Lance races up the stairs to the quarterdeck, where first mate Krolia steers the ship with deadly precision. Her eyes are singularly focused on their path ahead and Lance doesn’t dare break her concentration any further than the bombardment does. He scans the area frantically, but doesn’t see Kolivan anywhere.

He spots Antok working the rudder and rushes to the senior crewmember. Lance leans into the rudder with his shoulder, using all his strength to help Antok move it to the desired location.

“Where’s the Captain?” Lance asks desperately, raising his voice over the choppy seas and the magical bombardment. Another attack hits near the bow, and although the impact is on the other side of the ship, Lance is nearly tossed to the ground.

Antok catches him easily with one long arm. “In his quarters, making precautionary plans. Krolia has the bridge,” he says concisely. Lance is used to receiving only the bare minimum information, and does not press.

“Thanks!” he says in response to both the information and the save from the fall. He stands upright on his own and dashes back down the stairs.

Lance jumps over the last few steps and over the railing, turning as sharp a corner as possible to reach the door to the officers cabins. He sleeps with the crew now, but as he passes down the hall, memories from what feels like a lifetime ago fill his mind, of Keith giving him firsthand accounts of everything and everyone on the ship those first frightening nights. He breathes in and out purposefully, shoulders rising and falling in sync as he reaches Kolivan’s door and knocks. Now is not the time for reminiscing.

The door opens and he’s greeted by Ilun, another veteran of the crew. “Lance,” she acknowledges shortly.

“I need to see the Captain,” he says hurriedly. “The mast is falling apart. Keith is working on it right now. We have to - “

“Understood.” Kolivan interrupts from further inside the room. He stands over a table with what Lance knows is the map of the surrounding waters. “Ilun, go assist Keith how you can, then help Krolia on the bridge.”

“Yes, Captain!” In a whirlwind, she rushes down the hall and out to the deck in no time.

Lance watches her do so before turning back to Kolivan. “I’m gonna go help too. The more people helping the sooner the sail comes down.” He turns to leave.

“One moment, Lance. Step inside for a minute,” the captain says in a far less commanding tone.

Lance stops in his tracks and does as asked, closing the door behind him. Kolivan’s voice is sobering and in the closed off cabin it is all too easy to forget the chaos outside.

“Captain?” he asks tentatively.

He doesn’t hate Kolivan, but there will always be an uneasiness between the two of them. The man has always been fair with him considering the circumstances, allowing Lance ample leeway to wrestle with his dueling feelings of fondness and resentment for the crew.

“You are allowed to call me by my name,” he says. “You are not a member of this crew.” His stare is impartial, solid yellow eyes betraying no emotion in the moment.

Lance stiffens. “You’re the captain. As long as I’m on this ship, that’s what I’ll call you.”

Kolivan does not react.

“Haggar will catch up to us,” he says grimly instead. “This ship does not have the speed to outrun a pursuit like this.”

A shiver goes down Lance’s spine. He’s grown up with stories of Pirate Admiral Zarkon’s first fleet Captain. Her cruelty is matched only by her proficiency and interest in dark magic. The very idea of being her enemy has always haunted Lance, but he has always had sanctuary on a ship in the same fleet.

Until two days ago, when Kolivan refused to follow Zarkon’s command to attack the country of Arus. Now the _Blade of Marmora_ is being pursued to face punishment.

“Why are you telling me this?” Lance asks.

Kolivan regards him with a calculating stare. “Whatever happens, you are not obligated to stand with the crew. You did not choose to be here. None of us will think less of you if you elect to save your own life.”

Lance bites his bottom lip, fear and anger welling up at the same time. “You’re assuming I’ll be given a chance.” He forces himself to say his next words without spite. “It’s a pirate thing. You didn’t care that I was a kid, Haggar isn’t going to care I’m a prisoner.”

_The Captain is forced to his knees like the rest of the crew. Lance stands exposed, his hiding spot behind the Captain gone. He begins to sit along with the others._

“ _Set the boy aside,” orders the pirate’s leader. Lance can only protest lightly as strong arms lift him away from his keepers._

_The Captain pleads for him. “He’s only a child,” the man says desperately. “This is his first voyage. Please spare him.”_

_Lance is forced to stand with his back flush against the pirate who grabbed him, a massive arm across his shoulders to keep him in place. Lance remains still, eyes filled with curiosity and fear. It isn’t as if there is anywhere to go, ships surrounded by water and days from land._

_The pirate leader approaches him and Lance cranes his neck to see his face._

“ _What is your name, child?”_

_Lance raises an eyebrow at him. “It’s not polite to ask for someone’s name and not give yours,” he says frankly._

_The Captain and several crewmen in Lance’s sight wince, eyes holding a fear that Lance can’t place. He doesn’t know what the pirates want from the cargo, but that doesn’t excuse their manners._

_The pirate’s mouth twitches into a side smile. “I am Kolivan, Captain of_ The Blade of Marmora _.”_

“ _I’m Lance,” he offers politely and proudly. “I’m the cabin boy from Port Varadero.”_

_Kolivan hums gravely. “That is a very large and prosperous port city. Do you like it there?”_

_Lance nods enthusiastically. “I love it! I can’t wait to tell all my brothers and sisters about my first job on a ship. None of them ever met real pirates.”_

“ _I see,” Kolivan responds. “He turns to the Captain. “His father owns the shipping company, doesn’t he?”_

_Lance frowns. Why would that matter?_

“ _Please don’t harm him,” the Captain says instead. “The boy is just here to learn.”_

_Kolivan stares at Lance for a long moment before speaking again. “Then he will learn with us. Antok,” he says, addressing the pirate holding Lance. “Take the boy to my cabin. We leave for deeper waters once the cargo is unloaded.”_

_Lance gasps as he is hoisted over Antok’s shoulder. The Captain has stood, protesting the decision vehemently. Lance can’t wrap his mind around what is happening and holds tight to Antok’s shirt. Why would Kolivan make him change ships?_

_It is probably only to secure his father’s cargo, Lance realizes._

_As Antok descends the stairs from the quarterdeck, more crewmen join the Captain in protesting the decision. The argument becomes more and more heated until Lance can no longer see them._

_Blood curdling screams, gunshots, and strangled noises erupt. They end just as suddenly as they began._

If the words had been hurtful, Kolivan does not show it.

Lance continues before he can say anything. “I should get back out there,” he says shortly, turning towards the door. “She’s not on us yet so there’s still a chance.” He places a hand around the doorknob, squeezing it in frustration. It’s been seven years since that day. It may not have been his choice, but he’s done everything as expected of a member of the crew. He may as well be one at this point. “Unless you have orders for me.”

“I am not your captain and you are hardly a child. Do as you wish.”

That’s almost more frustrating than a straight answer. Lance says no more and leaves, slamming the door behind his exit.

_Lance waits for an agonizingly long time. It may have only been ten minutes, maybe even an hour, but to a twelve year old boy being confined for any amount of time was torture._

_He’s tied to a chair that is much too large for him. Lance isn’t worried, this is a pirate ship after all, he expected this. But he’s bored, and all of the most interesting things in the room are just out of reach from his free hands. Kolivan’s desk has an assortment of maps, knickknacks, and instruments that could easily provide entertainment for an imagination as good as Lance’s. He pouts mostly, forcing himself to imagine what he would do with the compass or pretend he was reading one of the old books that lined the walls._

_Maybe some of them were spellbooks, Lance thought brightly. He’s never seen a spellbook, and if anyone were to have one, certainly pirates would!_

_The door unlocks from the outside and wiggles open. Kolivan appears from the other side and closes the door behind him._

_Lance twists, feeling antsy. “Are you done taking everything?” he asks. “Can I go now?”_

“ _Everything of value has been transferred,” Kolivan answers. He rounds the large desk and unties the rope that keeps Lance bound to the chair. Lance grins and rolls his shoulders and stretches._

“ _Stay seated, we must talk.”_

_Lance blinks and crosses his legs on the chair. “What about? Is...there something you want me to tell my father?”_

“ _That won’t be necessary,” Kolivan says. He walks to the back of the room; Lance must turn around and sit on his knees to see over the back of the chair. The pirate captain opens one of many tinted windows. “What did you learn while on the Valiant?”_

_A strange question, Lance thinks. A sense of wrongness begins to finally stir within him. Lance knows pirates are capable of truly terrible things, but attacks by Galra pirates are so commonplace that this robbery doesn’t scare him._

_Well, if an adult wants him to show off, he can certainly do that._

“ _I can climb the shrouds all the way up to the mast,” he says proudly. “And I know how to let down the sails, and I clean the deck faster than anyone else.”_

_Kolivan nods, even gives him a small smile. “That’s very impressive for your age.”_

_Lance beams at the praise. It was more than even Luis got to do before he eventually became captain of one of the family vessels. Perhaps that meant Lance would one day be so good he could command a fleet of ships!_

“ _Good. Since you have maintenance basics down, tomorrow you will report to Krolia. You’ll need combat training and there is none better to teach you.”_

_Lance is officially confused. Pirates offering to teach him things? Combat takes years, or decades, to practice. Even Lance knows that. And… “But… I can’t. I’m going ho- “_

“ _You will be staying with us,” Kolivan says before Lance can finish his thought. “Do you understand why?”_

“ _What? That’s not fair!” Lance says. It doesn’t make sense, but it's the first thing out of his mouth in retort._

“ _You will remain on this ship as a representative of your father’s company,” Kolivan tells him. “I’ve instructed the ship’s cook to inform your father of the new arrangements. We will see to your education and wellbeing provided we are given safe passage through your family’s shipping lanes.”_

_A knock on the door makes Lance gasp, not realizing he had been holding his breath as finally, the situation comes crashing down on his head._

_The pirates are going to use him as a hostage for a lot longer than he first thought._

_The door opens and a boy his age quietly enters. He looks perfectly human compared to the rest of the Galra crew and Lance fleetingly wonders if these pirates make a habit of kidnapping._

“ _Keith,” Kolivan begins, “this is Lance. Show him around the ship, then the two of you will help prepare the evening meal. Your mother can give you instructions after that. She’ll be training both of you starting tomorrow.”_

_Lance can’t stand to hear anymore. He jumps onto the desk and bolts past Keith and out the door. He runs outside onto the deck, nearly tripping over buckets of water or crewmembers, none of whom seem very worried about him roaming free._

_Lance reaches the railings, and in the far distance he can see the small black dot that he knows is the_ Valiant _._

“I think I can sneak up on her.”

“You have no weapon,” Lance retorts dryly back at Keith.

The two stand at the end of a long line, every member of the crew standing side by side, their weapons systematically taken away by Haggar’s druids. Lance is on pins and needles waiting for the judgement to come down on them. He regrets never being able to see his family again, but he’s not had a bad life either, albeit a short one.

He itches for his pistols to at least go down fighting, and he knows Keith feels the same for his blade.

Like a passing front, the air chills rapidly. Haggar herself boards the Blade of Marmora. She keeps her face hooded and posture hunched.

Keith growls and leans forward. Lance grabs him by the back of his shirt. “Not the time, dude.”

Kolivan steps out to meet her, his face carefully neutral. “The decision to not attack Arus was mine alone. Leave my crew out of this.”

“Your selflessness is commendable, yet misguided,” Haggar says. "You and your ship will be made an example to the rest of the fleet."

Druids fly across the deck of the ship and mutter incantations under their breaths. It’s an unnerving sight and Lance hates being at the far end. He feels exposed and scoots away from the railing, bumping into Keith for his trouble.

"You have a choice, Kolivan. You can pledge right now to serve Zarkon, or I will curse your ship and your crew," Haggar says.

Kolivan narrows his eyes. "Zarkon is not the Galra I knew years ago. I refuse to offer my ship to his whims."

"So be it."

Dark clouds form directly above the ship, soon bringing heavy rain down upon the deck and lightning to illuminate the sky. A dark mist weaves in between the line of crew members before it stops abruptly at Keith. Lance follows it with his eyes as it twirls around Keith's body up to his head. It jumps over to Lance and circles him on its way back down to the deck and returns to Haggar.

"One and a half humans," she observes coolly. "More vulnerable than most. Step forward."

Lance feels an awful sense of deja vu as a druid shoves both him and Keith forward. He steals a glance in Krolia's direction. Her face is carefully blank, but he's known her long enough to see the rage building in her eyes.

If anything happens to Keith, there will be retaliation.

"The blood of both Galra and human," Haggar begins. “A potent catalyst.” She takes Keith's hand and pricks his finger with a needle. Keith winces, but he's unharmed.

She lets the blood drop to the deck of the ship, mixing with the rainwater. Against all odds, soon all of the water on the deck has turned blood red, the rain continually replenishing the macabre mixture.

"The crew of the _Blade of Marmora_ will live forever, but will never be able to touch land again. Not sick or hungry shall they be, but lost until under Zarkon's banner they fight."

Keith drops to the floor in pain and Lance kneels by him in concern. "Keith!" Lance steals a gaze all around him. He is the only one besides Haggar's crew who is not writhing in agony.

"You are not a member of the crew," Haggar observes. "The curse is not affecting you." She traces her fingers along his chin. Lance feels as though he can't breathe. "I will give you a chance to spare yourself. Join Zarkon's fleet under my ship."

 _No one will think less of you._ Kolivan's words echo in Lance's mind, but he doesn't dwell on them. If there is one thing he's learned growing up with pirates, it’s that no two pirates are the same. Lance will take the Blade of Marmora over Zarkon's bloodthirst any day. They aren't his blood family, but they had become his family in the things that mattered.

"Screw you," he tells the witch. "I'm not leaving the _Blade_."

She shoves her bony hands against his forehead in response. Lance tries to move a hand, a finger - anything, but he can't. He's frozen in a type of spell he can't explain.

"Ah," she practically purrs. "This will be a perfectly impossible task. You must earn the heart of a mermaid if you wish to break the curse."

Lance screams. The pain is excruciating.

"If one of the terms are not met in one century, the _Blade of Marmora_ and its crew will belong to me. Your every thought for the rest of eternity will be to serve my will."

Lightning crashes onto the deck of the ship and Lance knows no more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katie chases the ship that captured her father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted [here](https://sp4c3-0ddity.tumblr.com/post/180064903738/to-sail-to-break-to-earn-chapter-one)

The scent of dark magic burns her nose as Katie swims, her tail driving her past her limits. She has to push on, keep going, can't succumb to the exhaustion in her muscles telling her it’s all right to falter, she can rest now and continue later.

But the longer Katie stalls, the further her father's captors draw away.

The higher she pushes herself, the more the world around her changes. Colors shift from blues and grays to shades more vibrant as more sunlight filters through the sea. The water passing over her gills grows warmer, filling her with an energy she’s unaccustomed to. It helps to dissipate her sleepiness but does little for the ache in her arms and tail.

"Come on," she hisses to herself, wishing, not for the first time, that she’s more inclined to the same athleticism as her peers.

All the while, closer to the surface, closer to an unknown plane of existence, one she only ever dreamed of without daring to touch.

Until now.

Katie breaches the surface with a splash, raising a hand to shield her eyes from a glaring sun shining in a blue sky.

_The sky!_ But she resists the temptation to pause, to examine a wonder she’s never seen for herself. There will be time for that later once she frees her father.

It would be like him to get caught in a human fishing net _for science_ …not that Katie can fault him for it.

The acrid scent of a dark spell isn’t so sharp at the surface. When she can’t pinpoint it, she thrashes around, careful to keep low so the seawater still washes over her gills, and scans the open ocean.

A wide and endless expanse of _blue_ greets her sights, unbroken and rippled. A breeze rustles the hair at the top of her head, already drying in intense sunlight, and white…clouds cluster just above the distant horizon. But when Katie turns, she catches her first glimpse of _land_.

Jagged, ridged rocks rising from the sea, foamy waves breaking against them, and beyond them a stretch of sand.

Suddenly the kelp forest she was raised in feels fathoms deep.

Katie searches this new world for the kidnappers that stole her father until her eyes alight on a—

“A ship!” she gasps, her heart skipping a beat in nervous excitement. She’s never seen one sailing, none aside from the wrecks broken far beneath the surface.

This one bobs with the current between the rocky ridge and the beach, sails hanging loose. A chain flecked with red dust trails from its deck, and when Katie ducks her head under the surface she follows it to the shallow bottom.

She’s rarely felt anything like metal, except for the large, hooked objects attached to the shipwrecks she explored in deeper water. Smooth to the touch as the saltwater ate it away…but never reeking of evil, the sort that attracts even _worse_ evil, like this one.

The ship is her target, she realizes as she returns to the surface. She whips through the water around it, gazing up towards the deck, her heart racing and her head growing light.

“Katie!” a familiar voice bursts out as she approaches the ship’s front. “What’re you _doing_ here?”

Katie’s heart leaps when she spots her father, trussed up in a net that dangles in the water. It keeps him confined, the woven rope digging into his cheek and his arm trapped against his chest, his dark orange tail, the scales glittering in the sun, twisted in an odd angle.

“Father!” Katie reaches for her satchel and digs through her meager belongings - all keepsakes from her and her brother’s unsupervised adventures, and from her father’s unsanctioned ones. Her fingers close around the hilt of a knife taken from a shipwreck, the weave of the net so thick she doubts her teeth will suffice. Her brow furrows, and she says, “I’m going to cut you out.”

Voices drift down from the ship’s deck towards them, but she pays them no mind as she grasps the rope and slides the knife into place underneath.

She stills when her father’s hand nudges the blade, pushing it back to her. He protests, “Leave me.”

“Why would I do _that_?” Katie demands. “We don’t know what these humans—”

“Captain!” a shout rings out. “There’s _another_!”

The knife slips from Katie’s grasp, her eyes wide as she tilts her head back and stares up at a human peering over the railing. Others join him, crowding around him, and before she can so much as splash away, a net descends.

Katie dives away, thrashing at it with her tail in a pathetic attempt to push it away, but that only helps it snag her. The net wraps around her tail and traps her arms to her sides, something hard in her satchel digging into her flesh. Her stomach flips at a sudden jerk, and she’s lifted back to the surface beside the ship.

Beside her trussed up father.

Underwater “up” and “down” are meaningless, but hanging upside down from a rope leaves her head spinning.

Dry air touches her gills, and the dizziness only grows _worse_.

“Lower her into the water!” her father yells. “She needs it like I do!”

Katie sighs in relief when water washes over her gills, but she refuses to - and _can_ _’t_ while tangled in a net - relax, not even when a human stutters, “My a-apologies!”

Her temper flares, and she snaps, “If you’re so _apologetic_ , then let us go!”

“I’m afraid we cannot,” a different human says, tone grave and deep. His eyes gleam an eerie yellow as they narrow down at her, a distinct scar slashing vertically through one.

“We only need one, Captain,” the first human, far shorter than the other and with shoulder-length black hair, comments.

The captain continues to appraise Katie and her father almost thoughtfully. “You’re right; Keith, free the younger—”

“No!” Katie protests. She clutches at the net and shakes. Her heart races with fear, but she seizes on the anger that still grips her and glares up at the human sailors above her. “Free my father a-and keep me instead!”

“Katie—”

“Take me!” she pleads. “H-he has a family that loves him and studies to pursue and far more friends than I do!” Her mind quests for more excuses, for everything she knows of humans that she can use to her advantage here. “I-I know some of what stories humans tell of merfolk, and I know I suit them better than he does! I c-can sing—”

“That won’t be necessary,” the captain assures her. He turns to the young black-haired sailor standing beside him and says, “The mermaid is acceptable; free the merman.”

“Don’t you—”

A snick rings above, and the rope tethering her father to the ship slackens. The net falls away as he pushes it off with a few strokes of his orange-scaled tail, and a heartbeat later he swims towards Katie, seeking her rescue where moments ago she sought his.

“I’ll free you,” he promises, his hand finding hers.

Katie blinks, a tear falling from the corner of her eye, but says, “N-no, this is fine. I-I’ll see the world of humans like I’ve always wanted, m-more than you did just like you promised.”

“Not like this, Katie,” her father says.

But Katie is tugged from the waves, jerked about and away from the warmth and security of the sea. Air hits her gills, drying them, and she smacks at them, frantically trying to wet them with the little water that adheres to her palms.

The humans heave her onto the ship, and she lands in a thrashing heap. On deck the scent of dark magic nearly overwhelms her - do they not fear the monsters that prowl the seas and have a taste for human blood? - but she musters what little strength remains to her.

A snarl twists her lips when the sailors surround her, leveling pointed weapons at her, smaller and less vicious than the harpoons Queen Luxia confiscates from human shipwrecks.

A woman with untidy hair to her chin and markings across her cheeks shoves her way through the crowd. “Why are you all aiming arrows at her?” she demands. “She’s defenseless out of water and soon won’t even be able to breathe.”

Tough words, Katie thinks, scowling at the knife sitting in the woman’s hand. She bares her pointed teeth and says with far more confidence than she feels, “Come any closer and I’ll tear you to shreds.”

“Easy,” the sailor says, raising her hands. “I’m only cutting you out of the net.”

Katie glares at her but stills enough for the woman to slash her blade through the rope. Her arms spring out with nothing trapping them, and she rubs at them, trying to get her blood to flow through her aching, stiff muscles. They tremble when she pushes herself up into a more defensible position, and perhaps she can drag herself to the edge and clamber over the railing…

The sailor grabs the satchel strapped to her back. “I’ll be taking this too,” she says, cutting the shoulder strap before Katie can react.

She hands it off to a young man that seems to hang away from the rest. His wide eyes - blue where every other sailor Katie spies has eyes that glow yellow despite the sunshine - land on her face as he slings the bag across his back.

“I never thought we’d actually capture one…” he murmurs with something like wonder in his voice.

The woman ignores him as she calls, “Thace, you have the barrel ready?”

“Wait, Krolia,” the blue-eyed man says, shaking his head and stepping forward, “if the merman we caught first is her father, shouldn’t she be given the chance to say goodbye to him?”

Katie’s eyes widen, her heart squeezing in her chest as what she’s done by taking her father’s place finally hits her:

She may never see him - or her mother or brother - ever again, not with her fate so uncertain.

But a wild hope that she might just have this - an opportunity to apologize, to tell him she loves him and to ask him to pass her love to Matt and her mother - shoves the ache away.

The woman’s - Krolia’s - gaze flicks to the man, an eyebrow raised. “Is he even lingering?” she wonders. “Keith, please check.”

The black-haired man so much shorter than most of the rest springs into action, sheathing the weapon at his waist and bounding to the railing to lean over. “He’s still here, Mother,” he says.

Katie can’t fight the smile pushing at her lips, can’t fight how her dorsal fin stands at attention in her eagerness. If her father’s still here, maybe she can even _escape_!

Krolia crosses her arms and sighs, but the blue-eyed sailor’s jaw sets. She frowns before her eyes pinch shut and she says, “Very—”

“No.” The captain’s heavy footsteps approach, the deck trembling under Katie’s hands and rapidly drying tail. “We need a mermaid, not a happy one.”

“I doubt just saying goodbye to her father will make her _happy_ ,” the blue-eyed man retorts, a scowl turning onto the captain.

“Nevertheless,” the captain insists with little more than a glance around at the gathering of jumpy sailors, “we will not give them the opportunity to conspire for her escape.”

Katie’s heart drops into her stomach. Her hands curl into loose fists, knuckles pressing into the hard wood of the deck, as she blinks hot tears from her eyes. “No…”

The captain towers over the young man, but he lifts his chin in a sad attempt to look him in the eye. “It gives her something that I didn’t have, Captain,” he presses, the cold anger in his tone sending a shiver down Katie’s spine.

Why is the blue-eyed sailor fighting _his captain_ for her?

“Lance, stand down,” Krolia says, gaze steely as it falls on her younger crew mate. “You heard Captain Kolivan, and I haven’t had to discipline you for insubordination for so long you’ve set a record.”

The sailor with the blue eyes turns from the captain to Krolia, a scowl twisting his lips. “I thought you of all people would understand.”

She rests a hand on his shoulder, but her eyes drift down when he shrugs it off. “I do,” she says, “but we need to be pragmatic.”

“Lance,” the black-haired sailor - Keith - cuts in. He grabs his arm and tugs him away, muttering something into his ear beyond Katie’s hearing.

Katie stares after them while tears - the first hint of damp since the sun started drying her scales - slide down her face. Her shoulders and arms shake with the effort of keeping herself upright, her chest aching as her hope dwindles again.

She doesn’t know what these sailors wanted with her father, what they want with her, but deep in her soul, so far from the kelp forests and thermal vents of her home, she knows it doesn’t matter.

By the time the sailors lift anchor and unfurl the sails, grief grips Katie so powerfully that she can’t bring herself to do much more than sob, glad for her limited privacy curled up inside a barrel filled with seawater.


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge makes assumptions and Lance goes on a massive guilt trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told myself chapters would be short. I lied.

A mermaid. They actually had a mermaid with precious little time to spare. The condition to break the curse could be met. Haggar wouldn’t be happy to give up her potential puppets so easily, so perhaps they’d have to fight her once more, but they would at least be free of the curse.

Lance should be happy.

He feels miserable instead, nearly sick to his stomach.

It’s been hours and her face still haunts him. He recognizes her eyes, a clear echo of his younger self, although her fear and heartache were far more justified than his had ever been. Unthinkable what-ifs worm into his mind, of his parents refusing to submit to the hostage demands. Would the crew have killed him at a time when they hadn’t known him as well?

Lance dismisses the traitorous thoughts. The Blade of Marmora pirates are not - and never were - cold-blooded killers; he’s seen that firsthand throughout the years.

But no matter their moral code, having a mermaid in the brig put them all on a figurative sandbar.

“There is no discussion,” Kolivan says to the circle of assembled crew. “Waiting until the last moment is too cruel. The heart must be taken now.”

Frenzied debate breaks out among the veteran members. While most agree it must be done, having the mermaid physically aboard gives many second thoughts, Lance included.

He sighs and goes about his appointed task of checking the mermaid’s possessions, something to help keep busy while the crew debates. He shifts around for a more stable seat on the rigging that he and Keith watch from.

“It’s not fair,” Lance says. He sifts through the bag’s contents with one hand, feeling mostly smooth rocks and the ridges of seashells.

“Most things in life aren’t,” Keith replies evenly.

“There has to be something else we can do,” Lance stresses, turning to his friend. “Haggar said we had to _earn_ the heart of a mermaid. Cutting out her heart and _taking_ it doesn’t sound like earning to me.”

Keith shrugs. “She did surrender of her own free will. I’d call that earning.”

Lance deflates in exasperation and peers into the satchel. “We were kidnapping her dad.”

“It kind of counts?” Keith says. “Look, I don’t really want her dead either, Lance, but if we don’t break this curse not only do we have a fate worse than death, but Zarkon gets an immortal crew that follows his commands to the letter. None of us want that for ourselves or for the world. If there was another way we’d all jump on it.”

Lance’s fingertips brush a couple strange objects. He pulls out a handheld pipe and a pair of spectacles minus their lenses and wonders use would a mermaid have for these.

Lance leans back and throws his hands up, landing in a cluster of rope. “This sucks. I thought a pirate’s life was supposed to be carefree and simple. We’re supposed to be raiding ships, wooing the ladies, and just generally having a good time.”

“Maybe some of us, not you,” Keith ribs with a smirk on his face. “You’re the least pirate out of all of us.”

A sting pierces his heart, but he continues smiling despite it. He knows Keith doesn’t mean to hurt him, not like this, but by the Ancients Lance thought he was past this.

“What?” he jokes back. “You’ve see my charms firsthand. The ladies we rescue love me.”

A grey, long-haired cat poofs into existence on top of Lance’s currently horizontal stomach. He isn’t surprised by Kosmo’s appearance but gasps and shoots back to a sitting position when the teleporting cat uses his belly as a launching pad. He takes the mermaid’s frames and poofs away.

“Can you please control your cat?” he tells Keith in annoyance and points at the bag in his lap. “I’m going to have to give this back eventually.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Kosmo has more charm than you,” he jabs with a teasing glint, but quickly frowns when his eyes flicker to the deck of the ship. “If you want to give the bag back to her, you’d better do something now. Otherwise you may not get a chance.”

Kolivan has broken off from the group with Krolia and Antok, making their way down towards the brig. Before Lance can even think about what he’s doing, he climbs down and rushes to stand in their way.

“There’s got to be another way,” he pleads.

“This isn’t up for debate, Lance,” Krolia says. She steps forward. “Move aside.”

Lance blocks her path “Doesn’t this feel wrong to you? We haven’t _earned_ anything. We’re going to kill her for nothing.”

“And you have an alternative?” Kolivan asks. “Lance, you cannot put yourself in her position. It isn’t the same.”

Lance knows it’s a rhetorical question, but he can’t not say anything. “I’m cursed just the same as everyone else,” he blurts. “Haggar looked into my head for this part, so I should have some say in this,”–he crosses his arms defiantly–“and I say we keep looking for another way.”

There, that ought to show them.

“If you want a say in this then you must be prepared to cut her heart out yourself,” Kolivan responds. “Is that something you are willing to do?”

Lance gapes like a fish, unprepared for the ultimatum. He’s killed before, but never an unarmed civilian - let alone a mermaid! The phrase ‘shooting fish in a barrel’ becomes uncomfortably real.

Phrase. Haggar never said they needed to literally take a mermaid’s heart. She’d used the word ‘earn’.

“I won’t have to,” Lance says. He beams at the revelation. “Maybe all she has to do is say ‘I love you’ and that’ll be it. I - I’ll pull out all the stops, Candlelit dinners, flowers somehow, the best compliments!”

Krolia raises an eyebrow and side-eyes Kolivan, awaiting his reaction. Antok says nothing, but his aura judges Lance’s plan.

“We’ve discussed the curse being metaphorical before,” Kolivan states. “It is unlikely such a superficial act will work. Are you willing to put both of your hearts on the line to gain a true bond? If you fail, she will end up suffering tenfold before death, and you will live with it.”

“It’s worth trying,” Lance says quickly. “I know if I were given a choice, I’d try anything.”

He bites his lip; he hadn’t meant for that to be so direct.

Kolivan is silent for a long moment, hopefully considering Lance’s words.

“This is our last chance,” he says evenly. “You have until the day before the century mark. If the curse has not broken, then you will cut out her heart.”

Lance barely registers the last part. He salutes, grinning from ear to ear. “Thank you, Captain!” The mermaid will be safe for the time being. “I’ll start right away!”

“Do not tell her about the curse,” Kolivan says, pulling him up short. “It may be best to let her live in ignorance for a while longer. Do you understand?”

He frowns under Kolivan’s intense stare. “What am I supposed to say when she asks?”

“You’re a pirate, Lance,” Krolia offers with a sigh. “You don’t have to say anything.”

But he isn’t. Not really. His situation makes no difference to the mermaid though, so pirate he’ll be.

“All right,” Lance concedes. “I won’t tell her about the curse.”

Kolivan nods in approval. “Have Keith help you with the mermaid’s needs. That will be your principal duty from now on. I’ll take someone off weapons maintenance to help with food preparation.”

Lance’s mouth twitches into a grin. He’ll get to flirt on duty and order Keith around? Today is shaping up to be a good day.

~~~~~

The enthusiasm fades as he descends the stairs to the brig, where they keep the mermaid mostly out of principle. She can’t survive long out of the water-filled barrel, so putting her behind bars seems unnecessary.

As much as Lance wants to help her, he has no idea where to start. What does he even say?

It’s been so long since his own kidnapping. He tries to remember who said what to him, or how long he wanted to be alone, but he only has fleeting memories of Krolia placing a sword in his hands and late-night chats with Keith while trying to fall asleep.

He remembers being busy, but the mermaid won’t have the luxury of distraction.

Maybe that’s what he can give her.

Lance opens the barred door, the irons thick and flat. It creaks, unused and unoiled in decades (he’ll fix it later), and he winces. She had to know he was here now. “Hey,” he says, raising his voice just above normal. “You still in there?”

He wants to slap himself for his stupid question. “O-obviously you’re still there. What I mean, is everything okay?” he wonders as he draws closer. Water trickles over the side of the barrel, displaced by the creature - person - inside. “Comfortable? I know it’s not the most spacious place. Maybe I can get you something to make it a bit better?”

No answer.

He takes a deep breath in and out, upper body rolling in sync. Adjusting the one good strap of the mermaids backpack around his shoulder, he steps forward and cautiously peers into the water.

It’s darker here in the hold, so it’s hard to make out the figure at the bottom at first.

His nose finds her first. Despite being part fish, why did mermaids have to smell like them too? The stories never prepared him for this.

When his eyes adjust, he can see that hers are closed. Her tail, twice as long as the rest of her body, twitches like Kosmo’s does when he’s in the midst of a dream.

She didn’t hear a word he said.

Lance releases the breath he was holding. At least her nap spares him embarrassment.

He probably should leave her be; that’s what he thinks he would want but… she’s mesmerizing. Lance still remembers the twelve-year-old inside of him fascinated with mermaids and wanting so badly to meet one, how amazing it is that a humanoid could live underwater naturally. A memory from another lifetime resurfaces, of him pretending to be a mermaid on the beach with his siblings, of him ducking in and out of the water to scare his sisters and his father joking that perhaps he was born to be a fish after all.

And now because of the curse, he’s confined to the water he loves so much.

She won’t notice if he stays for just a bit longer. He wants to commit what she looks like to memory. He can try making nice with her another time.

Seaweed drapes her torso, concealing everything it needs to . Growing up on a ship with a mixed crew, there’s little he’s a stranger to, but he’s relieved merfolk have similar modesty standards to humans. He doesn’t want to be caught gawking for more than one reason.

Long auburn hair and a pale upper half is where any physical commonality ends. Dark green scales - nearly black submerged in water - dot her arms and back and thicken at her wrists. Lance follows the ribbing along the top of her tail, which curls around the edges of the barrel with the fins tickling her face. His heart thumps in regret when her thinly webbed fingers clutch above the fins, as if seeking comfort from something familiar.

He knows with certainty that’s what she’s doing.

Only the threat of the curse on him and the crew keeps him from just letting her free right this minute.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. He dares to grip the edge of the barrel and dip his fingers in the water. “I hope you can forgive us one day.”

The mermaid’s eyes flash open. A surprised gasp barely escapes him before angry red eyes find him.

She launches herself up.

Lance steps back, heart pounding. He isn’t fast enough, and sharp needle-like teeth sink into his forearm.

He screams from the pain, falling to the floor and sliding away, clutching his arm to stop the bleeding.

“Hey, that hurt!” he exclaims indignantly once he realizes he’s not going to die from the wound. He’s had worse, and being immortal has some perks.

He meets her guarded hazel eyes, the hint of fear unmistakable. Her scaled fingers grip the edge of the barrel, but her mouth is still underwater.

“Good!” she snaps, but her voice cracks despite her indignation. “It’s supposed it!”

A beam of sunlight from a barred vent in the ceiling hits her thickly scaled cheeks, making her face look unworldly thin and scales shine yellowish-green. It’s gorgeous, the way she can seem so dark and mysterious underwater and bright and youthful above.

She must be stunning in the sunshine…

(He admonishes himself for hating the overcast skies from when they took her aboard.)

Her thinly webbed earlobes twitch, their rectangular shape odd but the action obviously annoyed.

His jaw snaps shut when he realizes he’s gaping.

“It’s bad enough you’re keeping me here, but are you all planning on watching me while I sleep? It’s creepy. Can’t you just leave me alone?” She sinks lower into the water and he can no longer see her flat, scaly nose.

The dark blue puffs around her eyes aren’t scaled, but they don’t seem to fit with the rest of her face. Did mermaids cry water underwater?

Oh. Of course she’s been upset.

“No!” he retorts. “I just came to see if I can get you anything. It gets lonely down here.”

She hisses, “I don’t need company from any human!” She ducks down with a splash, hiding from view.

The blood drains from his face as his brain scrambles for context. He lifts his bloodied hand from his wound and sees that he’ll need to see Doctor Ulaz for disinfectant. He knows stories of legendary beings from both land and sea, one of his favorite pastimes. What if…

“I’m not going to turn into a mermaid, am I?” he frets. But it would be preferable to the curse he already lived under, and he wouldn’t need pants anymore. Less laundry!

She doesn’t respond.

Lance considers leaving, frustrated with his lack of success, but he remembers why he’s there. Her life is on the line. He has to at least make an effort to be friends.

And the child inside wants to know more about her.

He stands and clears his throat, confidence rising in the simple action. “We got off on the wrong foot, or tail for you I guess. I’m sorry for staring at you. I won’t do it again. My name’s Lance.”

He waits for her to reply with her name. After an uncomfortably long silence, he continues, “Look, I know you have no reason to trust any of us, but two months is a long time to not talk to anyone.”

Her eyes break the surface once more, this time looking uncertain and vulnerable. “How long is two months?” she asks.

“About sixty days,” he says patiently. “A sunrise and sunset make a day.”

“Oh, sixty quintants.” She gulps, diverting her eyes. “What happens to me after that?”

Lance isn’t sure how to answer without revealing her role in lifting the curse. She deserves to know, he knows she does, but he doesn’t want to risk losing a tentative thread of friendship this early when it could save her life.

But he pauses too long, and she thankfully continues into a nervous ramble.

“Am I going to one of those… menageries? A—a lot of the sea creatures have relatives who end up in one. I’ve heard they aren’t too bad, once you get used to land walkers watching you all the time. As long as there’s room to swim and the water has good circulation.”

Her hands shake. Lance isn’t sure what comes over him, but compassion for both her true predicament and guessed one outweighs the fear of being bitten again.

“I won’t have to forage anymore,” she adds. “And there will be plenty of others to talk to. Maybe we’ll know the same folk.” She perks up. “Maybe they’ll know my family! I’ll never see them again but maybe the seals can take mes — “

On a chance, Lance takes her hands in his. They are cool and smooth to the touch, and he can’t help running a thumb over the scales. She stops trembling but does not pull away.

“I still want to see the human world. Maybe whoever is in charge will have some interesting things for me to see.”

“Is that why you carry this bag of junk?”

Her eyes widen when he shows that he has it with him, and she rises to her chest out of the water, ripping her hand away. “That’s mine! Give it back!”

Lance holds the satchel up and away from her. This is his chance to find out her interests fast. “You’re really interested in this stuff?”

“Not anymore thanks to you!” she yells, swiping for it and missing.

His heart freezes in horror as she leans over for it with her sharp claws fully extended, her abdomen a fulcrum and the barrel on the verge of tipping over.

Lance drops the bag and steadies the barrel, preventing more water from spilling to the floor.

But the mermaid strains for the bag and flops out, her tail slapping him squarely in the face.

“Ow!” he whines, clutching his sore nose. He intends to say more but reconsiders when she clutches the bag to her chest as if it was a lifeline.

Half the water is spilled thanks to the incident. Lance needs to fill it again, but more importantly he needs to get her back in.

“We’re not all bad, you know,” he says weakly. He senses he repeats words someone once told him, and it makes him ill delivering the message himself and _meaning_ it.

“Then why did you kidnap me? Why did you take my things?” she demands without loosening her grip on the bag. “We did nothing to earn this.”

Lance winces at her choice of words, guilt eating him from the inside. “I had to make sure there was nothing dangerous to us in there,” he says, dodging the first question. “I was going to give it back to you.”

Her eyes grow wide in surprise and possible embarrassment. “You went through my treasures?!”

“I wouldn’t call them treasures,” Lance admits. “That pipe is useless underwater, and it’s just rocks and seashells. You can find those anywhere. Your necklace looks like a real gem though. That might be worth something.”

The mermaid encases the green stone centerpiece with one hand - Lance is positive it’s an emerald - and glares. “What kind of humans are you?”

“This is a pirate ship and most of us aren’t even human,” Lance says. “I’m the only one, actually. Everyone else is Galra. Well, except Keith, but he’s only half-Galra so he looks human. You… can’t tell the difference?”

Her mouth flaps open. “I thought humans were just that biologically diverse.”

Oh Ancients, they’ve captured a scientist.

She sighs in resignation. “I wish I could make note of all this. Are humans and Galra the only — “ She wheezes, choking on the air.

Time was up for her drying gills.

Lance scoops her up, muscles conditioned after decades at sea. He dips her head first into the water, making sure her gills are functioning and at rest before letting her tail slide in.

“Are you okay?” he asks, leaning over to look into the barrel.

The mermaid curls up on the bottom like when he first arrived, but her eyes are closed in relief rather than sleep.

“I’m fine,” she says. “I hate this water. It’s so stale.”

Despite her complaint (or rather because of it), her gills open wide to take in water for several seconds, before she sits upright, the waterline only up to her shoulders.

“You said I had a pipe. What’s a pipe?”

“The pipe?! You almost died and you’re worried about your knickknacks?” he says, incredulous. “I need to get you more water. I’ll change it every couple of hours from now on.” He straightens to leave to do just that.

“Wait,” she says, grabbing his arm. He turns to see her desperate look. “Don’t leave. The human things were gifts from my family. I’ve wanted to know what they really are since forever. I can deal with a little stale water until then.”

Lance sees the break he’s been looking for and somehow stumbled upon. He melts at her touch, relaxing even though he shouldn’t with her obvious discomfort.

He hopes her request doesn’t end up being her last one.

“It’s the five tubes of metal tied together,” he says.

The mermaid digs through her bag with vigor. She finds the correct object, but her face scrunches in confusion. “It’s not here!” she says, voice rising with increasing panic. “Matt’s wires are missing!” She glares at him. “What did you do with them?”

“I didn’t take anything!” he defends. “I put everything back in the bag except — “

Except for the glasses that Kosmo snatched, he realizes with dread. Probably the wires she’s talking about.

Lance is used to Keith’s cat, so he isn’t surprised when he teleports in at the exact moment he’s needed with the frames in his mouth, walking delicately along the rim of the barrel.

Lance is used to cursed cats.

The mermaid is not. She shrieks, dropping the bag and stiffening, backing up as far as she can.

“Go bother Keith,” Lance grumbles as he takes the frames and shoos the cat off with a wave. Kosmo jumps down without a sound and poofs off to his next haunt.

“What was that?” she squeaks.

“Keith’s magical cat,” Lance says, rolling his eyes. “Kosmo catches all the rats that stow away. He’s harmless and been here longer than me. He just takes a bit to get used to. We had all kinds of fun with him when we were kids. It was almost like having a dog.”

The mermaid stares blankly at him. “What’s a cat?”

Lance isn’t often caught speeches, but how does one explain a cat? “One of those?”

“Obviously,” she says, rolling her eyes. “What is its species name? It’s a land animal so perhaps — “

“I’ll tell you if you tell me your name,” Lance interrupts. “I mean, I won’t force you, but I really don’t want to keep calling you ‘mermaid’ the whole time.” To increase the incentive, he holds the frames out to her.

She takes it, as if it was a precious glass figurine. “Thank you,” she murmurs, and ducks back underwater.

When she emerges again, she’s wearing the frames.

Behind her head.

“You can call me Pidge,” she finally says.

Lance grins, heart filling with joy. This crazy plan might actually work. No one will have to die. He just has to get her to say those words.

“Well, Pidge,” he says, enjoying how easily her name rolls off the tongue, “your first human lesson is how to properly wear glasses.” He leans over and plucks them off her head, before gently resting them in front of her eyes.

Not having a nose causes complications and they fall down her face. She scowls. “What’s the point in that?”

Lance laughs. “Humans use them to see better. Normally they have glass in them, so we call them glasses. Doctor Ulaz has a working pair. I guess it doesn’t work for mermaids.”

Pidge stares down cross-eyed before placing the glasses back the way she had them, more like a hat. “I like it better this way. What’s a cat? And what’s a dog? And the differences between Galra and human - and what do my pipes do?” she asks, holding up the device. “I want to know everything.”

“Okay okay, one thing at a time!” Lance stresses. “Mammals. That’s the term you’re looking for. That’s what humans and Galra are too.”

“Fascinating,” Pidge breathes in wonder. “I knew there had to be more of them on land like seals. Maybe I’ll get to see some more when I”–her smile falters for just a blink of an eye,–“get to the menagerie.”

Lance refuses to go down that road of conversation right now.

“Yeah, sure. Those pipes are pretty cool though. You can play a song with them.”

Pidge lights up. “I knew it was a musical instrument! I knew it and no one believed me!” She thrusts it into his face, and he has to lean back to avoid getting hit. “Can you play it? I want to know what it sounds like. I want to know how it works!”

Lance examines it once it’s in his hands. He hasn’t played one of these since Antok’s was lost to the sea in an incident that was absolutely not his fault. He smirks. It was easy enough then, it should be no problem now. Plus, it’s another opportunity to impress Pidge.

“I should be able to play a few notes,” he brags.

Pidge doesn’t seem to mind the obvious posturing; she rests her elbows and chin on the rim of the barrel, eagerly awaiting his performance.

So he plays, blowing softly into each tube. The melody is terrible and he can’t remember a single song, but it seems to be pitched well even after years underwater.

Pidge is enraptured. A smile remains on her face and her ears wiggle with delight.

It’s incredibly cute and endearing.

He finishes and she claps excitedly for him. “That was amazing! It’s so different from dolphin and whale calls!”

His heart flutters from the praise. He didn’t grow up in the absence of it, but he could never see past the underlying obligation behind the words. Pidge doesn’t know his story, and now that they seem to be getting along, there was no need to tell her.

He’s about to thank her when the cellar door slams open.

“Lance!” Keith yells, nearly out of breath. “We found the _Vrepit Sa_. It’s alone. We’ll be on her in an hour!”

The pride of Zarkon’s fleet, alone. Ripe for picking off and causing a crippling blow to the pirate king himself.

They’ll never get another chance to weaken Zarkon with only two months before the curse expires. They have to do whatever they can to take him down before they’re unable to resist his commands.

“I’ll be right there!” he calls back.

Keith acknowledges him with a nod and runs off to prepare his own post, Kosmo at his heels.

“What’s going on?” Pidge asks. She looks around wildly, pausing to watch a few crewmembers run across the vent above her. “What are you doing?”

Lance smirks, energy building and escaping through twitching fingers. “What pirates do best: raid ships.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are welcome for Kosmo. <3
> 
> Now we're caught up to the Tumblr posts. Thanks for reading! Comments and questions are hoarded like treasure and encourage us to write!

**Author's Note:**

> Find us both on Tumblr (while it's still around):
> 
> [Engineer104](https://sp4c3-0ddity.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Rueitae](https://rueitae.tumblr.com/)


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